Red Eyes
by MaroonAngel of Darkness
Summary: But it wasn't her face or body that mattered to him or even called his attention, it was her eyes, that was what kept him so engrossed. Her blood red eyes.


**most of it is a bit of an AU, a what if the avatar stayed with validar instead of their mother**

**this is like the longest fic i've ever written O.o **

* * *

The first time he saw her, it was nothing more than a glimpse, but it was enough.

Her heart shaped face, her pale, messy hair (pink, white, blonde, he couldn't tell from where he was), and the large Plegian robe that was too big for her, sweeping around her body as she walked along, following after the familiar figure of Validar, the leader of Grimleal. It wasn't often that such a high stature member of Grimleal would come by a school unless there was a particular student got famous enough.

It wasn't the first time that he saw members of Grimleal come by, even if they were rare. And typically they didn't concern him so never did he pay attention to them.

Except for this girl.

For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to rip his gaze away.

And he couldn't figure out why.

She wasn't the first girl from Grimleal to drop by, he remembered an ivory haired woman with the biggest boobs he's ever seen wander in, her sharp, bored ash eyes barely taking notice of anyone around her; same for the girl his eyes kept following, drawing his attention in more than the other busty woman has ever had. And the busty woman had been far prettier than this girl, he could almost mistake her for a boy, almost.

But it wasn't her face or body that mattered to him or even called his attention, it was her eyes, that was what kept him so engrossed.

Her blood red eyes.

They were lovely jeweled, liquid reds, gleaming like fire in the dim light that was cast upon her; shining like rubies, sharp and bold and—

"Yes?"

Henry blinked, once, twice, three times.

It suddenly clicked in his head that he had moved from his perch and had moved straight towards her, standing before her and just staring right into her molten eyes. It was then that he went brain dead, simply smiling at her while he struggled to comprehend how this happened and what to say, especially when she kept staring at him, waiting.

"What is it?" she pressed, her voice low, deeper than most girls, almost sounding like a growl to his ears. The low hum of it made him shiver slightly, liking the low note of her tone, how it was unnerving, unnerving enough that any normal person would have drawn away instinctively.

Except him, he found he wanted to get closer, to listen to that growling hum whisper in his ears, as clear as the wind on a still day.

His lips curling up into a larger smile, especially by how her eyes narrowed, bringing out the redness in them, Henry openly declared, "I like your eyes."

He stayed long enough to relish the sight of those eyes widening in startled surprise, then he turned tail and ran, overwhelmed by the emotions in his chest, specifically the giddy embarrassment that took him.

Stopping when he was hidden, he peeked out, his turquoise eyes catching sight of her, still standing there, staring off at where he had ran, her mouth open as she gawked, only snapping at the sharp voice that called out to her.

_"Aeron!"_

Much like he did before, she jumped and ran quickly after Validar, keeping her eyes to the ground as she caught up, murmuring quick apologies while the man merely scrunched his nose down at her as they both went on their way.

Aeron.

That was her name.

He could smiled.

It seemed fairly fitting for her.

* * *

"You'll be working under our head tactician, something I hope you understand is a very high honor," Mustafa told him, his small, squinting eyes glaring down at Henry, who smiled up at him easily, humming a simple tune, not even intimidated by the large general next to him. "Oh I'm sure it is," he eased brightly, "I've heard a lot about the Grimleal tactician, that's she's known to be quite gory, and uses swords and magic. I'm very excited to work with her and see what she can do."

Mustafa shot him a dark look, stopping before a black tent with the yellow markings of Grima's eyes decorated on it, a fitting tent for Grimleal's top tactician. "Listen here," Mustafa said seriously. "The tactician is our greatest addition to the army, and is Lord Validar's daughter. I expect you to treat her with the highest honor and respect."

"Of course!" Henry exclaimed, "Why would I treat my superior otherwise?"

Mustafa merely glared at him darkly before stalking off, leaving Henry alone in front of the tent. He watched the general go, smiling to himself as he turned back to the tent, wondering about what the tactician was really like. He's heard a lot about her, and he's heard very little as well.

Some say that she's beautiful, the angel of the desert, distracting and awing. Others declare that she was ugly, as hideous as her father, and just as ruthless and manipulating. Either way, she was his superior for the moment, he was to work as a partner and something along as a personal guard.

Though he felt it was more along the lines of making sure that he was in line, an obvious nobles' request, and who better to keep him in line than the leader of Grimleal's frightening daughter?

Reaching out, he swept the flap aside, peering in and spotting her immediately. Like all high officials, she wore a fancy Plegian robe, though he was delighted to see that it was torn slightly, though there were some lazy stitches to try and keep it together. Looking over the hooded robe, he tried to guess how big she was, but the robe hid her body well, though it seemed she was around his height and body size, if not a little smaller.

But it was hard to tell with her hunched over, flipping the pages of a thick and large book, large enough to make him grimace slightly, his smile tilting down. It reminded him of the books back at the academy.

So she was a bit of a bookworm then.

Straightening with the biggest smile he could muster, he loudly cleared his throat, catching her attention. Like he had hoped, her hood turned slightly, turning her head slightly in his direction, observing him from over her shoulder, hidden by the fabric over her head. "You're my new assistant?" she asked, her voice a low growl, slightly familiar and pleasing to his ears.

Not that he thought about it much, more focused on the word "assistant".

Well, not what he had in mind, but they did say he was working with her.

"I guess so," he chirped, bowing to her.

She turned to him, her hood still up and hiding her features from him, showing why folks knew so little about her. She hid her face well, and the dim candle light around the tent didn't offer much for his eyes either. But he was right on height. She was around his height, only shorter a few inches, reaching only his chin, and her body was small as well, easily swallowed up in the large, Plegian robe that she wore. At her side, nearly hidden under the open robe, was a jagged, Plegian short sword.

"I'm Henry," he said, "I'll serve till they find me a new spot."

Her eyes roamed over him, a quiet hum drifting from her as she neutrally stared at him, Henry patiently awaited what she would say.

"You may call me Aeron," she said, pointing to a chest full of books. "For your first task, I would like you to organize those books."

"Ok!" he chirped, easily hiding the slight twinge of disappointment by the simple task. But he quickly brushed it off. It wasn't like she was banning him from killing, so long as she didn't do that, and they both got out into a fight, he'd be happy to organize her books as much as she wanted.

Aeron...

Where did he feel like he's heard that name before?

* * *

Henry was giddy.

Fire was everywhere, flaring around him, dancing at his fingertips and lashing out with every sweep of his hand. The opposing bandits were long since dead, their screams lost to the heat and smoke,now nothing more than ash for the fire to dance upon.

Aeron permitted them both to go out and join the battle when a band of thugs bombed down on their camp, the piteous fools. They had barely chipped at their numbers when the army turned back on them, every soldier, ranked high and low, turned to meet them.

All around him battle sung and fire hummed.

Breathing in deeply, he started when he caught an odd scent in the air, a different scented smoke. Opening his eyes, he eagerly sought the source, wondering if it was possibly a surviving body that he could play with.

Instead he found Aeron, looming over the battle on a rock formation, blue fire whipping around her, rattling her hood and showing off her face to the world. Her face was heart shaped, her pale hair flaring blue in the light, whipping against the wind.

And her eyes, a bold red shade that was vivid against the blue light that reflected off her eyes.

Henry's breathe left him for a moment, staring into the clash of blue and red, captured by the crimson hue of her eyes.

* * *

"You're an idiot," Aeron stated.

Henry could only smile, chuckling sheepishly, only to squeak when she pressed a little too hard at the cut on the back of his head. "What mage stands in the middle of battle, completely open?"

"A distracted one," he offered.

"A dead one," she bit back.

Henry merely hummed, liking the feel of her weaving her fingers through his hair, moving them aside so that she could get to the wound better. He had made the mistake of simply standing around in battle, watching Aeron from her perch.

Unfortunately he did not see that arrow...

"This happens again I might restrict you from battle," she warned him, lightly dabbing the wound, dipping the rag in water before bringing it up.

"Oh don't worry, it won't happen again," Henry assured quickly.

"I would hope so," she murmured, dropping the rag and replacing it with binds, wrapping it securely around his head. "I was told you were quite fierce on the field. Did they forget to mention that you got hurt easily?"

"I'm a bit slow to pain," he admitted, "usually having too much fun to notice."

She merely hummed, tying the binds together and leaving him, going back to her spot at the desk, going back to her ridiculously big book. "What are you reading?" he asked.

"Tactics," she said simply, her red eyes gliding over the words, her tangled up hair hanging loose and free out of the hood, a pinkish white color he notices now.

"Is it interesting?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, trying to see the literature. She glanced at him, her hood falling back, showing her face clearly, allowing her red eyes to shine out. "You wouldn't find it to be interesting," she said.

"How do you know?"

"You're a Plegian war mage, magic and death is what you'd care about. Tactics would be boring for you."

"Lets read a chapter together then," he said, hopping onto her bed, wincing slightly as he bounced. When she arced a brow at him, and he merely patted the bed, inviting her over. She stared at him, long and hard for a minute before she shrugged, picking up the book and slipping over, sitting near and letting it rest across their laps, Henry flinched slightly at at the weight of it.

And the words, he's only glancing and already he's getting a little overwhelmed with information.

"Retire when you wish," she said, her eyes going back to the pages, gliding over the words once again.

After ten minutes of trying to read the thick, large book, retired he did; right on her bed.

Good thing Aeron was fine about sharing.

* * *

"We'll be having someone join us," Aeron told him as he reorganized her books, more out of boredom than demand. Rogues have been hiding from them well, knowing that an army of Plegia's best were making their rounds on the desert; making the patrol quite dull.

"Oh?" he chimed, perking up slightly at the detail and possible distraction from this droning hike.

Especially since not many visited Aeron, and when they did, it was a general or some important Grimleal member. He wondered who they'd see today.

"She's a very special guest, sent personally by my father," Aeron went on, slouching in her seat with a grimace.

Ah so someone of Grimleal.

"Maybe she'll be fun," he offered.

Aeron merely hummed, frowning still as her red eyes flickered over to her tent flap, making him think that they're guest was to arrive soon.

"Do you know her?" he asked.

"Sort of..."

"Oh? Good terms?"

"Sort of..."

"Sort of good," he mused. "Well this certainly will be interesting. There aren't a lot you are sort of good with."

"Shut up," she hissed, glaring at him and baring her teeth slightly.

It was evening near evening when she finally came, this mysterious and familiar guest of Aeron. She was a typical Plegian woman, her skin tanned dark, wearing dark and open robes and very thin clothes. With her dark hair framed around her perfectly, Henry could almost think he was in the presence of a temptress instead of a high positioned mage in Grimleal.

When her dark eyes landed on him, he froze at the cold look she sent him, like his mere presence was ruining her day for her.

"Tharja, you're late."

The woman turned to Aeron, a warm, sheepish smile melting on her face as she greeted Aeron a little too humbly. "I apologize, I was slowed down by the chance of practicing a few hexes. I should have hastened here."

Aeron sighed, waving her off.

Starting a long night of flattery and the invasion of personal space, typically with Tharja leaning close, Aeron leaning towards and into him to get away from her.

Not that he mind, liking the feel of her warm body leaning against his own.

* * *

She was asleep when he slipped back in, about to tell her that they were nearly at the capital, and that Validar had requested her presence immediately upon their arrival.

Or so the message went.

His head tilted to the side, the ever constant smile on his face, Henry eyed Aeron as she was slumped over her desk, head nestled in her arms, a slight hissing coo coming out of her as she slept, her hood left to hang back, laid over her shoulders messily. Beneath her was yet another thick book, no doubt the latest addition that she bought at the last town they were at.

"You know you should just go to bed, especially when its right there," he teased her, slipping closer till he stood next to her, staring down at the whirl of words. Reaching out, he lightly pulled the hood over her head, hiding her face from the world, hiding her eyes from any that would dare peek.

That's why she liked wearing a hood, liked having it up.

She never liked people seeing her eyes.

_"It scares them," she told him once. "When people look into my or my father's eyes, they are staring right into Grima's soul. No one likes to meet the devil in the eye. Its natural to keep your head down, to look submissive and respectful in the presence of the death lord. Even if its only his eyes and not his body as well; no one dares look us in the eyes."_

"I still think they're pretty," he told her, taking a shy strand that was peeking out of her hood, rubbing the softness between his fingers. "I think they're very pretty."

* * *

He got her to laugh.

And with Aeron, getting her to laugh was some rare and magical.

Especially since her father saw fit to suck the happiness out of her.

It was kind of funny how high and positive he was and how low and negative she was.

Not that he was complaining, he sort of liked the balance they had.

He laughed with her, gleeful and proud to make such a sound from her, hearing her voice rise slightly with her hoots.

All the while though, even with the giggles, he couldn't help but noticed with curious fascination how her canines were more slightly pointed than normal.

He wondered if he pressed his finger tips to them, would they easily cut his skin and make him bleed?

* * *

"You're up early."

Henry looked from the crows he was feeding, smiling as he watched Aeron walk over the sand, joining him as her robes flickered behind her, blowing in the wind. "Good morning," he bid pleasantly, "just wanted to feed the crows before someone eats them."

She hummed, standing a few feet away, watching as they bouncing and walked along his arms, eating out of his palm, their beaks clacking, their feathers rustling as they squawked and squabbled. The whole time Henry sat still, occasionally tossing a piece of meat out but mostly holding the chunks in his hands, letting htem land and feed off him.

"Do you want to feed them?" he asked.

She shook her head no. "They won't come close," she said.

"Sure they will," he insisted, to prove his point, he tossed a ration at her feet, knowing that they would scatter around her heels to get it. The crows jumped up like they were supposed too, ready to dive straight at the meat, only to reel back and stay on his shoulder and arms, not daring to go near Aeron or the meat next to her.

Probably for her first time, she saw him truly frown. "Now that's strange," he mused.

Aeron merely smiled, bending down to take the piece of meat, tossing it back near him, and the crows dove at it like they should have earlier. "Its not the crows," she eased, "its me. They know a monster when its near."

"You're not a monster."

She merely smiled a weak smile, watching the crows mingle on him and the sunrise behind him.

For the first time for Henry, he noticed the six eyes branded on her hand, glaring out into the world.

* * *

"How come you're fire is blue? Is it the tome? A spell?" Henry asked.

Aeron shrugged, frowning herself as she thought it over, trying to figure out the source of her flames herself. "I couldn't tell you," she admitted, "its just something that runs in our family, father's specifically. We could always used blue fire, though sometimes father was able to turn his fire purple, but no, I don't know why."

"Maybe because of Grima?"

"Probably..."

"Its pretty, and sounds painful; I wish my fire was blue. The lighter the fire the hotter it is you know."

She smiled, her red eyes flaring brightly under her hood. "Personally I like red fire, I think its warmer, much, much warmer."

* * *

Aeron was gone.

He knew the minute that Chalard came and told him that he would be working as a ground soldier from now on in the growing war against Ylisse, and that he was to be shipped off tonight, with not even a chance of looking for her and saying goodbye.

Something happened to her, he knew instinctively.

If it was by Aeron's will or her father's, she would have come to him personally, she would have told him why they were separating or what was going on. After traveling and working with her for four months around Plegia, he liked to think that he knew her better than most. He certainly knew her face better than most, he adored her eyes more than anyone, and could listen to her talk for hours on end.

Even if it was only about tactics, he could listen for on and on.

He knew she was seclusive, that she had a violent temper and a love for throwing things, was vicious in battle, used beautiful blue flames.

Her hair was pink.

Her eyes were red.

Her face was heart shaped.

Her body was small and she had a love for wearing a large, Plegian robe.

She loved to read, either hunched over or curled up with a thick book in front of her, engrossed in the past battles recorded; spending days and nights just reading till she eventually passed out.

She didn't like to be separated, especially to those she got close with.

She didn't liked being separated from him.

And he didn't like it either.

It was almost like Wolfy all over again.

But Henry did as he always did, following orders and going along with what people decided for him. He wasn't sure what was going on with Aeron, why the sudden cut off and sending him away; he didn't know if something happened or not. Did Grimleal push too far with her?

Did her father push her too far?

He knew that Grima's blood ran through her, that she was going to be the revival of the fell dragon, possibly even get sacrificed, dying as the dragon took her body. The thought made his hands curl into fists, but he quickly let them go, reminding himself that Aeron was never one to turn away from her troubles or the expectations placed before her, especially by her father.

If she had to become Grima, then she would.

He just hoped that they would meet again, and that it was Aeron that he saw, not Grima.

* * *

"So..." Prince Chrom started, shifting around uncomfortably alongside Henry as he walked him through the Ylissen army, the white haired man ignoring all the stares shot his way as Chrom lead him to their infamous tactician, the army's greatest success and guide.

Though he doubted this tactician was as good as Aeron. She was the best.

"That's a Plegian robe?" Chrom asked.

Henry hummed his confirmation.

"Its kinda similar to what my friend wears."

Henry tilts his head, intrigued. The prince had a friend that wore a Plegian robe, and was leading an assault against Plegia?

Must be a traitor like him then.

"Anyway, I think she could find a spot and partner for you," Chrom said, smiling uneasily at him as he nodded towards the tent they stopped in front of before quickly leaving, his dark eyes glancing back at Henry. Henry got a strong sense of deja vu, finding it similar to how he first met Aeron.

Only Aeron wasn't in the tent.

Aeron was dead.

Or so Validar had proclaimed; he had "lost" Aeron.

So either Grima was walking around in her body or killed her.

Either way, Henry wasn't to expect to see her again.

Just as he was raising his hand to move the tent flaps aside, they opened by themselves, and an achingly familiar red eyed woman came out, bumping right into him.

"Oh I am so sorry I didn't see-"

"Aeron?"

The woman froze, her red eyes staring up at him in surprise.

Henry smiled, a real, happy smile, his arms coming around and holding her to a tight hug.

So happy was he that he wasn't aware of the many eyes on them, with all their hands resting on their weapons. All he knew was the woman in his arms and how right it felt for her to be there.

Even if she was a little stiff...

* * *

"You don't remember...?"

"No," she said, shifting nervously, her red eyes wide and apologetic, flickering to him then the floor, looking guiltier and guiltier, like it was her own fault that she couldn't remember.

Which was wrong of course. How could someone be at fault for forgetting themselves.

"All you know is your name," he mused, a little dejected. She didn't remember him. Not at all. Not a little, and certain not a tiny bit; there was nothing of him left for her to know, no flicker of recognition, no happiness that filled her during the reunion.

At least now he got why she was so stiff.

She was being hugged by a stranger in her eyes.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered in her low voice, barely a whisper in his ears; making him want to reach out and pull her into another hug, reassure that it was ok, that it wasn't her fault.

He blamed Grima for this.

He blamed her father, Validar, for this.

If he didn't push her to host the fell dragon, if he didn't force her to work with him for all those years maybe this wouldn't have happened. He was suspicious when Validar made the declaration that Aeron was lost.

Not only had he lost her, she had lost herself.

He didn't know what the dark mage did, but he was going to make him pay for it.

"So you two knew each other?"

Henry blinked, looking up at the younger of the two royals that were with them, intrigued by this "old friend" of Aeron. Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa. Noce people so far, though he was a little irked by how closely Chrom stood behind Aeron, watching him suspiciously; though Lissa was very openly curious, eyeing him over, her gaze flickering between him and Aeron.

Henry smiled. "We did. We met on a patrol around Plegia, I was assigned to be... a bit of a servant, companion, and bodyguard you could say."

"Sort of like how Frederick is with us!" she exclaimed.

he shrugged. "I guess so," he said. He didn't know a Frederick but he probably did something similar then.

"Why did I have a servant?" Aeron asked, frowning at him.

"I guess you could say it was because you were very important."

"Wait!" the blonde princess jumped, "Don't tell, Aeron is like... the Plegian princess?!"

He hummed at that, his head tilting slightly as he played with the idea and the words to best describe Aeron's stature. "Well, technically no, but since Gangrel doesn't have any heirs, that does make Aeron the closest to being one."

"What do you mean?" Chrom asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Aeron, you're father is Validar, the leader of Grimleal, a religious group that pretty much rules over Plegia. If you took over your father's place, the king should obey you're every command since you are above him in a sense."

"So you're _above _royalty?!" Lissa wondered, staring at Aeron in awe. "Wow. I guess in Plegia we should be bowing to you!"

"In a sense, yes," Henry said.

"How come you weren't with Aeron when we found her?" Chrom asked, "She was all alone in Ylissen countryside."

Ah, so that's how Aeron ended up with this army. His smile shrunk a little as his shoulders drooped with a weak shrug. "Orders from the superiors," he said, "Aeron was supposed to return home and I was sent into the army. She was declared dead in Plegia when Validar finally brought the news."

"Should... should I go see my father?" Aeron asked.

"No," Henry said immediately.

"Why not?" Chrom asked.

"You know how your father was a bit of a mad king himself Prince Chrom? Validar is quite similar, but scarier. He knows how to hide things from people, how to control them."

"And... my mom?" Aeron asked.

"Well, I know she passed when you were young, some even say Validar killed her."

Lissa gasped, "Why would he do that?!"

Henry shrugged, "He's the priest of Grima and the leader of Grimleal stuck in a loveless marriage. Stuff happens when life is like that."

* * *

Much to his disappointment, Aeron avoided him half the time.

Most of the army did.

They stared and watched him suspiciously, some guessing that he might do something bad like blow up the camp or sick the crows on them. He could see it in their eyes, bringing him back to the days of when he was in school.

Even the two people that he worked with, a young boy named Rickon, and _the _Frederick that Lissa had talked about, had made requests to work with different people than with him.

Which Aeron answered too.

She had sent the young mage back to Maribelle's side and Frederick got to work with Sumia; leaving him partnerless.

Till Aeron came to him, and told him that she would be his partner in battle.

"Its not good for anyone to be fighting alone and since... Well I'll watch your back." She grinned at him, "I'm guessing that's something we did together before, right?"

It was Henry's biggest smile yet. "We did! We burnt people together!"

"So I did use magic then?"

"Oh yes, magic, swords. It was always fun fighting with you."

"Could... could anyone else in Plegia did that too?"

"Nope, only you."

* * *

Henry was glad to say that he and Aeron were back in routine, even if this was a different army and something Aeron just got used too; for Henry, it was reliving the good old days.

Mostly.

There were some quirks still that Aeron was getting used too about him, like when she caught him playing with a risen's arm; and he was getting used to a much for open Aeron that liked wearing her hood down; but they were making it work. She was evening learning a bit of what she was like, and he was learning more about Aeron all over again.

Whenever she asked about her past, he answered when he could.

And when she wanted to talk, tactics, people, Ylisse, and Plegia; he always listened, understanding how she thought and how she worked. Even if she was more open than the Aeron he used to know, she was still the same bookworm, reading herself to sleep; she was still the same battle ready tactician, using her Plegian sword and blue fire to cut her enemies down; she was still the slightly insecure Aeron, a little overwhelmed with herself, her job, and the war.

And with her loss of memories and the fascination of learning what she could, he found that they were spending more and more time together; especially with Chrom getting busy with Olivia, helping the shy dancer with her plans of a theater.

When they confessed and Aeron eagerly and proudly wore his snake and skull ring; he found himself to be the happiest man alive; even if most of Grimleal would have frowned at a lowly mage, disowned by his family, marrying the next head of Grimleal. They weren't apart of Grimleal, here in the army, that didn't matter. Not to him, and never to her.

All they knew was that they found acceptance, support, and family within each other; her ivory haired, smiling, blood obsessed husband; and his red eyed wife and tactician.

His wife.

He never thought he would ever think something like that, see himself married and settled, happily grounded and resolving around her. She lit up his world like the fire she threw, flaring brightly in his eyes. And when they had their first night of passion for them both. Henry shuddered at the memory of it, and will shudder for many more nights to come. She lived up to her role as tactician, taking charge and figuring him out all in one night, making him nothing but putty in her hands. Each stroke she did, every spot she grazed over; he was barely aware of anything else of the soft warmth of her palm moving over him.

In the passion of that night, they forgot that it was their first time, forgot their nervousness, their awkwardness, and their heritage; as soon as their hands started to roam over their skin as their mouths fell upon one another, they become lost to the world, aware of only each other.

* * *

He didn't know if he should have been surprised or not when Morgan came with hair as white as his and eyes as red as Aeron's; their presumed son, their own child from the future.

His son.

He was going to have a son.

He was going to be a father.

It was overwhelming and exciting, just like the first night he and Aeron spent together.

He had a son.

Him being happily married was more believable than him actually having a child. No one thought he'd be a good father, heck, even he didn't think he would be, messing with body parts, graves, hanging with crows and poisonous spiders, talking of death and blood and fire. Those weren't good traits of a father. But when he voiced it to Aeron, she merely laughed and waved him off.

The very next day she dragged him over to Morgan and left them together.

Father and son.

Morgan didn't have any memories of him, only of Aeron, making Henry a little disappointed and nervous that he really wasn't Morgan's father.

"I'm sure you are though!" Morgan exclaimed quickly, nervously. "I mean, look at us, we look a lot a like!"

And they did. In a sense, Morgan looked more like him than Aeron. He had his hair in both color and wave, he had his round face, fondness for bugs (except for fire breathing scorpions), and had a very similar personality. Morgan smiled all the time, laughed and giggled at almost everything. He pouted when someone hampered on his fun and always found a way to turn it around. The only things he seemed to get from Aeron were her eyes, and her wit and skill as a tactician.

Other then that, it seemed to be all him.

Henry smiled, ruffling up the teen's hair. "I'm sure you are," he eased, "especially since we are a lot alike."

"I still want to remember you..." Morgan insisted, "just like mom."

It was then at that moment that he had an inkling with what Aeron was laughing about; with his worries that he wouldn't be a good father. She knew he would, just as he would go far for her, that he'd do the same for this boy, for his son.

His son.

It was alien and strange, but he liked the feelings that came as he stood with Morgan; they were similar to Aeron's, maybe even stronger. But he felt the need to reach out, hold him close, console him, reassure him that all would fine. He wanted to see Morgan go far and he wanted to see him safe. He wanted to see all that he could do, wanted to see him get past all the limitations the world placed before him.

"We'll work on it, together," Henry promised.

Morgan smiled back, his red eyes shining against his pale skin and hair.

"Together."

* * *

"I'm glad to see that you and Morgan are getting along so much," Aeron told him one day as they walked hand in hand in the town they were visiting, both ignoring the stares that the civilians casts towards them.

"We are a lot alike," Henry mused, leaning over and resting his head on hers, enjoying her presence. "He joined me this morning to feed the crows. They adored him!"

Aeron smiled. "Its good to know they don't avoid him."

He squeezed her hand, pressing a kiss to her brow. "Surely my presence is enough," he offered.

"More than enough," she assured, meeting his lips. Smiling, Henry rested his head on top of hers, sighing contently. "Can you believe we already are parents?" he asked after a while, watching as a few kids darted by, giggling amongst themselves.

"I think its more along the lines of we will be," Aeron said.

Henry frowned, glancing down at her. "What do you mean?" he asked, "Don't we have Morgan already?"

Aeron chuckled, taking his hand and letting it rest on her stomach. "We are having Morgan Henry."

"..."

"...Henry?"

"..."

"Dear?"

"...oh? ...Oh!"

* * *

"Calm down Morgan, you're having more ticks than your mother," Henry teased as he watched his son pace.

"But I'm getting married!" Morgan exclaimed, a big mix of giddy nervousness taking his body and keeping him moving, his hands constantly wrung themselves, his red eyes flickering to and fro. "And to Lucina too!" Morgan paused, his face paling slightly. "If we were in the future I'd be a king... I don't know to react to that..."

"In a sense you already are," Henry voiced, making his panicking form pause, looking at his father curiously.

"What?" Morgan asked.

Henry smiled, coming up and ruffling his son's hair. "You're grandfather was Validar, the leader of Grimleal? Grimleal is above the crown in Plegia, so you and your mother are above royalty, they would answer to whatever command you have. Plegia, you're above Lucina."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"So... I've been like royalty all this time?"

"I guess you could say so."

"You ready?" Aeron asked, peeking in. Morgan instantly squeaked, resuming pacing while Henry shook his head. "I just calmed him down too," Henry lightly scolded her. Aeron lightly pushed at him, smirking to her son as she pulled him close, fixing his hair at the last minute, tugging at his clothes and straightening them. "You'll be fine," Aeron told Morgan as he started to stutter. "Just keep your eyes on Luci, and it'll go by fast," Aeron told him.

Shakily, he nodded to her, biting his lip slightly.

"It'll be fine," Henry eased himself, pulling his son into a tight hug. "Love you," he murmured.

Morgan wrapped his arms back around him, squeezing tightly. "Love you too dad."

Smiling, Aeron took Morgan's hand, leading him out down the aisle while Henry slipped into his own seat next to Olivia, returning her nervous smile. As the music started to play, Chrom came out, linked with Lucina, smiling down at her as they both came.

Through it all, Morgan kept his eyes on Lucina like Aeron said, unable to turn away as he smiled broadly down at her; which she eagerly returned. Henry pulled Aeron close, whispering in her ear, "Reminds me of our own wedding."

Aeron hummed back, leaning on his shoulder. "Its just as beautiful," she agreed with him.

* * *

Henry stared down at the bundle, trying hard to grasp that he was holding his newborn son in his arms. Beside him, Aeron lay in exhaustion, slumped heavily on the bed. "I blame you for this," Aeron murmured, shifting up slightly to stare at the bundle with a loving smile. Chuckling quietly, Henry leaned back, letting her get a good look at their son. "It was worth it," he said.

"It was," she agreed, rising up slightly and leaning up on him, both of them simply soaking in the sight of their child.

Of their creation.

"You think it was this special when Morgan was born?" Henry asked, thinking of his son from the future.

"I'm sure it was," Aeron said, reaching out and lightly running her hand over his head, brushing over the fuzz of white on top of his head, as his sleepy red eyes peered up at them. "And I'm sure it was this beautiful too," Aeron murmured.

"You look beautiful," Henry said.

"Tell me tomorrow afternoon when I'm fresh and rested, I'll believe you then."

* * *

Henry felt numb.

His body was cold and stiff, Aeron lying heavy in his arms, her red eyes dimming slightly as she blinked slowly, her eyes flickering up to him and she smiled weakly, her hand coming up and running over his cheek, smearing tears he wasn't aware of shedding over his cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry," she said quietly.

"Shhh," he shakily shushed, bringing her closer, finally noticing how he was shaking as he held her close, letting her rest against his body, slightly curling her against him.

"I... I'm sor..."

"Shhh," he pressed, slowly rocking her, rub up and down her, breathing shakily and deeply, nearly choking on his own breathe as he tried to stay calm, trying hard not to break. Aeron smiled up at him as he came down and pressed their foreheads together, quivering as he held her tightly, shaking as Morgan slipped closer, looking just as broken and scared as he felt, reaching out for Aeron.

"I love you. I love you both."

* * *

"You're always welcomed," Chrom told him, watching as Henry moved around the room, slowly packing his things, listening as baby Morgan cooed in Lucina's arms as she slowly rocked in the armchair, her husband standing near, his red eyes staring down at the ground sullenly as he listened to his father pack. "You don't have to leave," Chrom tried.

"Thank you Chrom," Henry cut off stiffly. "For the offer, really but... I don't want us to stay."

"She may come back-"

"If the bonds are strong, I know, but how do I know if our bonds really were that strong?" Henry laughed weakly, smiling grimly. "I know Chrom... I know..."

"I'll go with you dad," Morgan said, his eyes flickering up. "I'll go with you, help you look for her."

"No Morgan, you are married, stay with your wife, stay close with her and stick together. I, we..." Henry paused, breathing in shakily. "We'll just be out for a while, alright? Just give us a week, maybe a month... I just... need some space."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him as he packed his bags for himself and for baby Morgan, grabbing and taking the necessities that a baby would need. When he had everything, he slung it over his shoulder, took his youngest child from Lucina, smiling sadly down at the bundle that blinked groggily up at him. Lifting his head, he pulled the older Morgan into a one armed hug and kissing the top of his head. "Take care," Henry told him

"You too dad, love you."

"And I you."

He turned to Lucina and Chrom, giving them a slight bow. "Chrom, Lucina, I trust you'll take care."

"You'll always be welcomed here," Chrom told him.

Henry could only nod, adjusting his hold on his child as he slipped out of _their _room and out of the castle. Quietly and quickly, Henry left the castle, avoiding all the familiar faces, avoiding any other last goodbyes that would have stalled them. They needed to get out, he needed to get out; out and away from here.

On and on he walked, not stopping till he stood on a golden hill, with the tall grass brushing against his robe as he balanced Morgan in his arms, turning enough for them both to stare at the castle.

Morgan was born here at this castle.

Even married here.

This was also where he and Aeron used to live...

"We'll come back some day," he told Morgan, bouncing the toddler gently, "after we find mommy, that's when we'll come back." Morgan stared up at him with red eyes up at Henry curiously before he smiled, giggling while Henry eagerly returned it, nuzzling his son's forehead. "Come on son, lets go find your mom."

Morgan cooed, reaching up and tugging at his hair.

"Ow, ow! Morgy that hurts, stop. Don't pull hair please. Ow!"

* * *

Morgan was the one to find her.

After a year, she finally came back to them.

And Morgan was the one to find her.

Henry smiled at his son, holding him close while Morgan squirmed and cooed, his red eyes flickering to Aeron as she slept on the only bed he had, that he and Morgan shared, both watching and waiting for her to wake.

After a week of hiking, Henry had found an old abandoned shack that he decided to make use of, close to the castle, but far enough where everything and everyone wouldn't have reminded Henry of her. During this time, he focused solely on Morgan, watching and raising their son, awaiting the day that she may come back.

During this time he wondered over and over again if he should go back to Plegia; take Morgan back with him, show his son the kingdom where both his parents came from, see if Aeron herself would appear in Plegia.

But she was never happy there, he reminded himself. She didn't awaken in Plegia, she woke in Ylisse, close to the castle, where Chrom had found her. Henry held to the hope that she would come before them here in Ylisse, in the same golden green field that she had rested in before.

Naga must have answered his prayers, for one day, after a year of waiting, praying, and clinging onto hope that she would return, she did.

And Morgan found her.

He would have missed her completely, despite her wearing the same dark Plegian robe, and how her hair shined brightly against the sun. He had been looking up and out, watching for any wolves or bears that would dare come near while Morgan explored and played, crawling around on the soft earth, giggling at each brush of grass on his cheek. He had crawled right onto her sleeping form, squealing at the sight, instinctively knowing who she was.

When Henry had heard those squeals, he rushed over, ready for a fight, only to his son sitting on top of her, patting her face as he booed at her.

And now she slept still on their bed, both of them waiting for her to awaken.

"Muu," Morgan uttered, his lips sticking out as he tried to speak.

"Mooom," Henry corrected patitently.

Morgan giggled, leaning back dangerously in Henry's lap; making the mage reach for him hastily, stopping his fall. "Daaah," Morgan squealed.

A soft, weak chuckle caught his ears and Henry looked up, meeting the tired red eyes and a groggy smile. ""I guess he's always been a bit talkative hasn't he?"

"Aeron!" he exclaimed, rushing over to the bed, setting Morgan down as he took her hand, squeezing it tightly. She squeezed back, smiling broadly at him. "You're awake," he whispered breathelessly, slowly pulling her up, pulling her close, relishing the feeling of her being there, of knowing that she was. "You're finally awake."

She hugged him back, leaning back into him as she hummed reassuringly. "I'm sorry Henry," she murmured, "I'm..."

He merely squeezed tighter, afraid that if he let go, that she would be gone, disappearing into thin air. "Just don't do it again," he said, "don't leave me again. Not till its our time."

Morgan scoffed, and they both drew, laughing at the pout on the boy's lips from being isolated from the hug.

"Look whose gotten big," Aeron cooed back, pulling her son into a hug, keeping him securely between them. Henry wrapped his arms around them both, pulling them close and keeping them there for as long as possible, soaking in their presence, thanking Naga for having them here with him.

His red eyed son, both old and young.

And his beloved, red eyed wife.

* * *

**henry is one of the guys i like pairing my avatar with and i don't see much**** on him fic wise, which is a little disappointing, especially when he and morgan have very similar personalities.  
**

**i know henry is usually portrayed with red eyes but i noticed that validar has reddish eyes and that his child could also have red eyes, so with aeron having red eyes, i decided to give henry turquoise instead. **

**aeron means: carnage/battle, fruit (celtic), enlightened, mountain of strength, high mountain, exalt (hebrew) **

**there aren't a lot of girls that i like putting morgan with, but i really do like him and lucina, but when they are siblings, i settle for him with nah or no one at all  
**


End file.
